What's Wrong With Him?
by ArtemisPhantom
Summary: Something's up with Doug, and Danny's not going to rest until he finds out what it is. Slashy kinda, and rated for language.


** Well, the day has come! I've written a cutesy oneshot. Yeah, it's not much, but what can you expect from my first go? I hope you enjoy it, and please R&R.**

**Criticism is accepted, but no flames pleeeeaaase.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own McFLY or any of the band members (I wish I did!) and I don't own Blink 182 or the song 'Story of a Lonely Guy'.**

* * *

Ahhh, crap. I honestly don't know what to tell him.

I mean, he looks so cute just stood there with a puzzled look on his face (WHOA, hold up. Did I just say 'cute'?). Being in the same band as him means I get to see this face a lot. And I do mean a lot. Right now, he's standing there in those yummy khaki three-quarter length trousers, a black Blink t-shirt and black-and-white checked Vans. Did I mention his hair is fluffy and all over the place? Hehe. No, wait. Back to the moment in hand.

Ah yes, I don't know what to tell him. I mean, Tom thought it would be a proper laugh if we went in Doug's room and turned all his posters upside down, and then turn his wardrobe and bed upside down as well, for good measure. But now, I just kinda feel bad. His mouth opens and closes, as if he's gonna say something, and then he just walks in and shuts the door! BAM, right in my face. We didn't mean to make him THAT upset. Seriously, it was just for laughs, you know? He's gotta be pissed about something, that's the only reason he'd shut the door in MY face. Isn't it?

Instead of moping around outside his door I decide to go and have a chat with Tom. He's like, the peacekeeper in our house. He really is a legend. I pad into the kitchen, and Tom's stood there in full 'chef' mode, complete with hat and everything. I eye him suspiciously. "…Err Tom mate?"

Tom looks up from his frying pan and literally bites my head off "Look Danny, what is it? I'm kinda busy here. It's difficult cooking for you lot, I mean, you eat all the bloody time!"

"It's about Doug" I answer nervously (not to mention quietly) whilst scratching my head.

Tom puts down the chopping knife and sighs, "Are you ready to tell him then?" He then looks at me meaningfully.

It hits me what he's implied "WHAT?? No, what? No, God no. Not _that._" I blush madly, I can feel it and Tom's still dissecting me with that piercing gaze of his. "I just wanted to tell you that I think he's pretty upset about what we did earlier. I kinda feel bad now as well…"

My pathetic whining petered out when Tom started grinning at me insanely. "Dan-ny, you've got it baa-aad" he chimed, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Another well aimed glare from Tom. "I just think he's sensitive at the moment, and I want to know why. I was wondering whether you knew anything…" I meant what I said, and Tom seemed to understand that.

He stopped grinning like a twat, and said, "Look, Dan, if you're really that concerned about him, go and TALK to him. I find that usually works." I opened my mouth to argue, but he had already turned back to the chopping board. "Danny seriously, just piss off if you want any chance of eating tonight."

I held up my hands in surrender, and then stuck two fingers up at his back.

"I saw that Daniel." Tom growled, still with his back turned.

Note to self: Next time I talk to Tom, I need to check that he doesn't have eyes in the back of his head. I swear he does sometimes. In fact, he would make a good dad. Hehe. What was I doing? Ah yeah. Kicking my arse back into gear, I hop up the stairs and round the corner until I come face to face with Dougie's door. Plastered all over it are posters of his favourite bands, including Blink, Taking Back Sunday, and strangely enough there are pictures of us.

There's a new addition to his door which I've just noticed. It's a piece of A4 paper with huge black writing. It reads: "No Twats Allowed" and it seems to have been scraped on the paper by someone who happens to be in an extremely pissy mood. I wonder why. From inside, I can hear that Doug is trying to blast his anger away using music. He's strumming along to 'Story of a Lonely Guy' while it's blasting from his iPod speakers, and I get the distinct impression he doesn't want to be disturbed. I'm seriously not sure about confronting him now. I raise my fisted hand to bang on his door, and then I wuss out. I can't help it; I'm just not very good at that stuff. With a resigned sigh I trudge back down the stairs and flop in front of the sofa.

Harry's been there during this whole episode, and I'm actually amazed. I mean, surely he can hear Doug's music thumping through the ceiling? "Oi, Harry."

The man in question looks up, and grunts "wassup?"

The situation looks hopeless from where I'm sat, but I'll give it a shot anyway. "Do you know what's up with Doug?" He doesn't answer immediately, so I clear my throat to get his attention. It seems that the woman with barely any clothes on the TV is more interesting than I am. How nice.

"What?" He asks. "Oh right. No. He was a bit pissed the last time I saw him, but nothing major I don't think." I sensed the conversation was over, because at that point, Harry stretched for the remote and turned the volume up some more.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Doug didn't show up through dinner, and Tom was pissed to say the least. Something about being ungrateful. Whatever. I really couldn't give two flying ones at the moment; I just want to know what's up with that boy. In fact, why is it bothering me so much? I mean, we all have 'off days' where we're not feeling up-to-scratch, but it really is bothering me. Right. That is it. I AM going to talk to him if it is the last thing I do.

With a new-found determination I march right up the stairs and confront his door yet again. This time, instead of knocking I walk straight in. Doug is sat on his floor with his back resting against the frame of his double bed. He looks up at me with a mixture of anger and… wait, is that amusement? Nope, it's gone. Crap. Thought I was in with a chance then.

"What." He asks coldly.

Sensing this harshness in his voice, I shiver involuntarily. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "Uh, well, you looked upset earlier and you weren't at dinner, so I wondered what was up." I spoke quietly, I realised and I also had my head bowed to the floor. Almost like a six-year old kid who knows they're in trouble.

"Well, I wasn't hungry. Also, I realised I have crappy friends. I have a shitty day with the management, and then I come home and find that all my stuff's been flipped upside-down. So, that's what's up."

He looked ready to drop the subject, but I wasn't done yet. "Look mate, you're usually up for a laugh. We didn't know you had a shitty day, and whenever I'm out you pull pranks on me. Remember that time you filled up my room with toilet paper? It took me the rest of the day to get it all out, but I laughed. You guys even helped me to clear it up. There were no hard feelings in it, really."

I held my breath as he stopped strumming. He looked up at me with those striking blue eyes and looked back down again.

"I'm sorry."

He jerked his head back up so quickly, I thought he might have gotten whiplash. "What?" He croaked.

I sighed. "I said, I'm sorry. I didn't realise it would make you so upset. When you got upset, I got upset, and so I don't want that to happen again."

He continued to stare at me for a while, and then he eventually said, "Thanks. But, you said that all in the first person. It wasn't just your idea was it? You couldn't have done this by yourself."

I blushed crimson. Ah crap. "Well, uh, no. It was actually Tom's idea to do this, but he doesn't seem to give a crap at the moment. I was worried about you, so I thought I'd come and apologise…" I resorted back to scratching the back of my head. I tend to do that when I'm nervous, I worked out.

I was surprised (pleasantly so) to find that Doug also turned a pretty shade of red. "Well, uh, thanks Dan. I mean, you didn't have to." He looked down at his feet and shuffled them, as if to try and make the carpet swallow him completely.

"Ah mate, it's all good. Here, I'll help you sort the room out."

So, for the next half hour or so, Doug and I were busy putting stuff back how it should have been. It was fun; we were twatting about and taking the piss out of Tom for being really uptight about his cooking. Soon, it was dark and I decided to head back downstairs and try to gain power of the remote for the telly. The Trotters were playing at the Reebok Stadium in a bit, and I felt like I should stay loyal to my team.

I made to head out of Doug's room, and I heard a small voice. "Danny?"

Hiding my surprise, I wheeled back round and paid him my full attention. "Yeah mate?"

"Uh, can I come with you? I mean, there's not a lot to do up here…" He looked nervous, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Look, you don't have to ask. Come on." I walked over to him and grabbed his hand. I twisted my fingers into his, and when I did so, we both blushed simultaneously. I noticed he didn't let go though, which made my spirits fly.

He looked up at me, and I caught those amazing eyes with mine yet again. "Thanks dude." He whispered.

"No problem mate." I answered, and I smiled softly at him just so he calmed a bit more.

We made our way downstairs, still holding hands. Tom and Harry, already in front of the telly didn't notice us come in and sit together, which I was relieved about. There would be no end to the questions. I didn't feel much like talking anyway, I just wanted to sit and be. Well, with Dougie of course. I turned to face him, and it was then that I realised that I was happy. I mean like, truly happy and I hadn't felt that way in days. Not until now. I smiled once again at Doug, and he seemed to be thinking the same. He also squeezed my hand, which just confirmed my happiness.

Next to us, Tom and Harry started grinning at each other in that annoying way that means they know something between themselves, you know? I shot a death look at Tom, and do you know what? He had the balls to just wink at me. Yeah, he WINKED at me. What a twat. I looked at Dougie, and he had just been winked at by Harry.

"What the DUCK has been going on here guys?" I shouted in Tom and Harry's general direction.

Tom sniggered. "I dunno what you mean Dan, do you Harry?"

"Not a clue." Harry replied, and they both resumed watching Bolton thrash the other unfortunate team.

I shrugged, and snuggled a little closer to Doug. He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back.


End file.
